«The first day I recall, ferocity of childhood, / Exhaustion and the darkness of the gulp divine, / The carelessness of arms, the heartlessness of heart, / That fell onto the chest, like hawk, like stone. And now — this time — trembling from heat and pity, / One: to howl like wolf, one:...»
«Night. North-East. The soldiers cry. Waves roar. / They bombed a wine warehouse. Along the walls, / Through ditches, runs a precious torrent / And in it dances bloody moon. The trunks of the poplars are mad. / Mad also in the night, birds sing. / Empty, yesterday's monument to the tsar, /...»
«Strong and wealthy have a hard time, / It is hard to all the lords. / I won't lower the light eyes / A red soldier before. City's moaning and carousing, / Moon in cloud made of wine. / Not a living soul will touch me: / Poor and arrogant am I.»
«A Cossack, a Cossack's son... / Thus the speech has begun. / Homeland. Darkness. Foe. / Everyone's heads fall down. Sound alarm, priests. / "There's no food." "Good." / Not a day should be lost! / A soldier must / Clean the horse...»